There are things I once had that I never will again. There are things I know now, that I’ll never forget. I now know the value of a meal, of a place to rest my head. I now know how important it is to show people you love them while you still can.
    Tonight, I am especially grateful, and aware of what certain things are worth. As the sun began to set, I made my way down to the city to my favorite soup kitchen, not knowing it was Thanksgiving. As I opened the frosted glass door of the building, I was greeted with the warm aroma of Turkey, and memories of the past year, the last one I had spent with my parents. I repressed the feelings, holding myself together as best as I could, and made my way to the line. The smiling faces serving behind the counter always managed to make me feel less alone.
    “Happy Thanksgiving, Timothy! Would you like two scoops of stuffing, or three?” It was my closest friend, Don. He spent every other evening in the company of the less fortunate. he was the kind of man I wanted to be, the kind of man my father was, and I never noticed.
I welcomed the third scoop onto my plate, thanked Don and quickly found a seat, not feeling up to talking despite my appreciation for the food. Each bite was a gift, a comfort I once always had, and now seldom had.
As I reminisced the past hour, it began to rain.
I never minded the rain until I had to sleep in it. But tonight, I found no reason to complain.  The stars were somehow the clearest I’d ever seen. I stared up at them in absolute wonder, with no anger polluting my spirit. I kneeled down and bowed my head, crying, but not out of sadness. I could suddenly understand everything.
Last Thanksgiving, my parents died in a car crash, while I survived. I was given to my Aunt Helen, who was the furthest thing from maternal. My presence was a nuisance, children being a bother she thought she had escaped. She was alone in her home, her husband having left her for a reason I don’t know. I reminded her of him, and she could no longer stand to see my face. I was locked away with nothing but a window in the attic. One month into my imprisonment, I broke the window and made my escape. The only place I could think of going was Redwood Forest, where my father and I used to camp growing up.
This is where I live now.
The rain fell upon me, wiping my soul and body clean. I was a selfish child before. I took everything in my life for granted. Losing my parents was the most painful thing to ever happen to me, but it taught me everything I know now.
I raised my head to the sky once again, taking one last breath before standing up. Then, I walked forward till I reached my favorite tree. It seemed to stand alone, while all the others were grouped together. This brought me comfort, as I knew exactly how it felt.
I took one last look up at the night sky, but for the first time, I didn’t feel alone. I could feel my parents looking down on me, and I knew they were proud of the person I was becoming. I laid beneath my tree, slowly dozing off to the sound of rainfall. I realized as I laid there on the ground,  I was finally content with my life.
My, how things have changed.